


A Little Comfort

by Salustra



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:54:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1497406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salustra/pseuds/Salustra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CONTENT: m/m sex, voyerism. <br/>SUMMARY:  Spike and Wesley take a little comfort in each other  <br/>SPOILERS: through Season 5 Angel. <br/>DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun.  No money made, don’t sue us!  (or, in more formal language-  <br/><b>Copyright Disclaimer</b> I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found <a href="http://www.copyright.gov/fls/fl102.html"><b>HERE</b> </a><br/>    Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Comfort

Spike woke up with a headache, on the floor of Angel's office, surrounded by bottles. He'd drunk a lake of whiskey the night before, a large amount by even by vampire standards. Well, only one cure for that. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a long pull from it, letting the warm glow start to lift the headache. A few more long pulls and he felt almost human again. 

Wesley walked into the office. He was fairly well on the way to inebriation himself. "Ah, a fellow enthusiast of the spirits, I see. Mine's sixteen-year-old Lagavulin." He sipped some more from the glass he was carrying. 

"Mine's," Spike looked at the bottle. "Some fancy Irish crap Angel keeps about. It's not bad, really." 

Wesley chuckled and sat down in a chair near Spike's spot on the floor. "So I'm drinking because my true love has been devoured and replaced by an ancient demon god. You?" He drank the rest of his Lagavulin, and held out his glass to Spike, who helpfully filled it from his bottle. 

"I'm drinking because the man I love barely notices I exist." Spike drank more of his bottle. 

"Oh, he notices all right. He just doesn't know what to do about it. Like me with Fred. I should have just kissed her ages ago. Then we could have had all that time before...well before..." His voice trailed off. 

"You sure he notices?" Spike looked up at Wesley. "You know, you have very soft lips for a man. Very kissable looking." 

"I do?" Wesley squeaked, a bit thrown off by the non-sequitur. 

"You do." Spike flowed up off the floor in one smooth movement, bottle still clutched in his hand, and leaned in to kiss Wesley before he could resist or object. Their lips pressed together and there was a fire between them. Spike groaned and pulled Wesley up and into his arms. 

Wesley didn't resist. He, in fact, returned the kiss eagerly once he got over the shock of being kissed. He'd always found Spike sexy, dear lord, who didn't? Even Gunn, as aggressively heterosexual as he was, had made comments. Spike was kissing him, and ohgod it felt so good. It was the first thing that had felt good in so long. 

Spike, on the other hand, was lost in the softness of those lips, in the scotch-soaked mouth, the faint burn of the stubble on his chin. He reveled in the lithe body against his. Spike was all about the moment, and this moment was a good one. He kept the long kiss going until it finally felt like time to break from the lips and kiss down onto his neck. "I want you," he murmured. "I want you now, is there someplace we can go?" 

Wesley blinked, and cleared his throat, trying to gather himself. "I want you too," he said at last. "Dear god, yes, I want you. I have an apartment here in the building, come with me." He wandered out of the office and Spike caught up with him, slipping an arm around his waist. Neither of them noticed Illyria across the large open foyer. She tilted her head in curiosity and followed at a distance. 

A short elevator ride later and they were at Wesley's apartment. "Just a moment, let me make sure Illyria isn't here," Wesley said. He went to look through the rooms. 

Spike chuckled. "She can join in if she shows up," he said. 

"Don't joke. She probably would accept an invitation out of curiosity," said Wesley. He came back to the front door. "No sign of her, thank heavens," he said. tugging at Spike's arm. "Come on to the bedroom." 

Once in the bedroom, Spike started stripping off his duster. "So, pet, am I doing or being done to?" His T-shirt quickly peeled away and he was starting on his jeans. 

The question stopped Wesley in the middle of unbuttoning his own shirt. "It's been so long." He looked over Spike's body, taking in the compact build and slender muscles. "Being done to, if you don't mind." 

Spike laughed. "I don't mind. That's my usual position." He stopped after unbuttoning his jeans to unlace his Doc Martens. That gave Wesley some time to catch up in the race to undress. 

Meanwhile, Illyria approached the door. She was curious as to what the two men would do. She'd seen humans and other creatures couple in the long ages past but never two males, and never two creatures she was as familiar with as these two. She exerted her powers to open the door silently, then again to open the door to the bedroom ever so slightly. She could see the bed from her position just outside the door, and right now she could see both semi-naked men. They were both obviously aroused and the pheromones in the air and the sight of them both triggered something in her she had not experienced in a very long time. She, too, was aroused. Arousal in a human body was an entirely new experience. They had hormones and nerve endings and parts she had never had in her original form. It made her feel almost faint and she had to lean forward, gripping her thighs with her hands. 

Now both men were naked and Wesley initiated a kiss. It had been a long time for him since he'd been with a man, all the way back to Watcher college, but he remembered well enough. Their lips met and the kiss was fiery and lingering and their bodies pressed together and their hands roamed freely over each other. Spike's lips were cool but not cold, Wesley noticed, and the whiskey taste was there, obliterating anything else like blood that might have otherwise been there. They both grew harder as the kiss went on and on, their bodies yearning to be together. 

Wesley backed Spike up against the bed and then broke the kiss, turning him around. "Hands and knees, if you please," he said, his voice hoarse with passion and need. 

Spike grinned wickedly and climbed onto the bed with feline grace, almost unbelievably fluid. He arched his ass up invitingly. "Whatever you say," he purred out. "Whatever you want."

"Ohhh fuck," Wesley groaned. "Don't keep saying things like that or I'll get out whips and chains and I might never let you go." 

Spike's grin got even more wicked. "I'll keep that in mind. Might like it, you know." 

"You're a fucking tease, Spike," Wesley said. He grabbed the lube from the nightstand and started working two lubed fingers into Spike. "A...fucking...tease," he grunted out slowly as he worked in a third finger. 

Spike chuckled even as the fingers drew moans from him. "Not a tease. I'll actually do what you're dreaming of." 

"Oh, fuck, Spike," Wesley said. "You make the most wicked and evil thoughts run through my head when you say that." He kept thrusting the three fingers. "And you make me curse and sound totally unlike myself." 

Spike grinned. "I like when you curse. Lets me see some of the fire underneath all that cool collected exterior." 

Wesley pulled out his fingers and slid himself into Spike. He groaned as he became one with that well-lubed sweetness. For the moment, the sensations took over his mind and he wasn't thinking about anything but the present. Spike moved with him, moaning and writhing, his body and mind filled with need and desire and pleasure. 

Illyria watched the two with growing interest. There was a beauty to the two of them together. She made the panel over her sex disappear and slid a long finger inside the folds. She sought the button that would release her pleasure and began to rub her finger over it. She bit her lip to avoid making noise. 

Wesley and Spike were moving together now, all writhing and need, performing a beautiful dance of desire. Wesley was thrusting in hard and fast and Spike was arching up and pressing back, both moaning and making all sorts of noises expressing their pleasure. It had been a long time since either of them had a release with anything other than their own hands. Wesley leaned down to kiss and nip with blunt teeth on the nape of Spike's neck. The possessive move sent a shiver through Spike's body. Spike loved this position and he loved having the feeling of Wesley down inside him. He needed this, Wesley needed this. They kept 'dancing' until the sensations washed over them both and climaxes came, one after the other. 

And in her spot, Illyria also climaxed. It took all of her considerable willpower not to cry out or collapse from the pleasure. She pulled herself together and covered her sex again and slipped out the door, her power covering the exit so the two men would never know she had been there.

Spike slid down onto Wesley's bed. Wesley collapsed next to him, and he smiled. "I'm glad you took the initiative. I would never have had the courage to start it myself." 

Spike chuckled. "I may have started it but you finished it, and one hell of a finish it was. We doing this again or was it a one-off?" 

Wesley chuckled. "It's definitely _not_ a one-off. I was hoping you'd want more." 

"So is the Blue Meanie going to mind?" 

"Illyria? I'd totally forgotten about her. No, I don't think she'll mind." 

"Though maybe she'll want to join in. She does want me for her pet, you know." 

Wesley laughed again. "We'll see."


End file.
